Kisses
by Mrs. HopeEstheim
Summary: An exploration of Lucy's first five kisses.


**Here we go! Another spur-of-the-moment idea!**

**Please enjoy!**

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_**Her first kiss was nothing like she had expected.**_

It was rough, forced, and completely turned her away from her desire for a boyfriend for several months. She had punched him so hard she was sure she'd scared _him_ off of women forever, though, and that would be a blessing for all of her sex.

Lucy Heartfilia's romantic soul had been crushed by the harsh reality: men are in it for the physical bits, and women are in it for the emotional bits. She knew that there were couples that were definitely the other way around, just as she knew there were sensitive men and really sensual women. The fact of the matter was that _she_ had been raised to expect a perfect gentleman to sweep her off her feet and the stone cold truth of the matter was that there _were_ no perfect gentlemen left.

So the blonde threw herself into work for a while, blatantly ignoring playful taunts by her female friends in Fairy Tail about how she should get a boyfriend to get rid of that crease between her eyebrows. She didn't blame them because they didn't know how much it hurt, having her childhood hopes quashed by a rough, uncouth jerk. She pretended that she didn't have a reason to be hurt, that nothing bad had happened, but it was her _first kiss_. That seemed to matter less and less as every generation hit their teenage years, but it still mattered to her.

Slowly, she picked herself together, shoved her shattered dreams of chivalry aside, and went out with a few more guys.

_**Her second kiss was no better than the first.**_

It wasn't forced, really, though still unwanted. It was wet, sloppy, and inexperienced, and she pushed him away soon after it had begun. She didn't have to do anything else—the shoddy self-proclaimed Casanova scowled and shoved his chair back, leaving the restaurant without even paying for his food.

Lucy scoffed.

"Jerk," she muttered under her breath, throwing enough money on the table for both of them and stalking out. To her surprise, on the next street corner she found the same guy knocked out, bruised up, with a split lip, bloody nose, and a childish "Kick me!" note taped to his chest. She snorted, kicked his foot with a little more force than necessary, and made her way back to her apartment.

She rolled her head and decided that she didn't _need_ jerks like that to make her feel good about herself. Sure, all his flattery was nice, and it primped her already too large ego, but when it came down to it, he was just a lying, flattering little kid who thought he was Fiore's gift to women.

_Some gift_, she snorted. _He didn't even pay for my food._

_**Her third kiss was far more than she'd bargained for.**_

This guy was more muscular than the others, which was her current phase, but she hadn't anticipated that he'd try to force himself on her so strongly. She shoved and pushed, but he was much, much stronger than she was and she was afraid she'd lose much more than her lips that night.

His hands wandered, his breath smelled of the beer he'd been drinking—and maybe of a few he'd had before he'd met up with her for their date—and Lucy didn't much like the look of this alleyway any more than she had when he'd first pulled her down here. She'd thought he'd kiss her and be done, but the more he kissed her the more hungry he got for more.

"Hey, let me go," she gasped, trying to push him off when he pulled away for the…she didn't know what time this was, only that her pleas kept falling on deaf—or drunk—ears. "Stop!"

"Shhh," he tried to soothe her, kissing her cheek and moving down to her neck as though he thought she should be enjoying this. She might have, if she had been willing, but she most certainly was not after seeing how much of a pig he'd been, and how rudely he treated her during dinner.

When he felt her take a deep breath to shout, he reached up with a hand reeking of alcohol to cover her mouth, so her scream was muffled and didn't travel more than a few feet.

But a few feet and a muffled sound was all she needed when her best friend was a dragonslayer with ultrasonic hearing who just so happened to keep close tabs on her if she knew she was going out on a date, unbeknownst to her.

Within a few seconds, there was no beefy jerk making out with her neck, no grabby hands, no stale alcohol breath—there was only Natsu. Tears came to her eyes as she fell into him in relief, clinging to his vest like a child to her father's shirt. And for the first time in a long time, Lucy _cried_. And the pink-haired man just stood there, soothing her and stroking her hair and holding her, waiting for her to see that she didn't need to search anymore, because he was there.

_**Her fourth kiss was a disaster.**_

It had been during a photo shoot for the _Weekly Sorcerer_, and Lucy was about to get one of her first full-page spreads. She was excited, and she babbled about it to the journalist who came to tell her all the details. He was a good-looking guy, and well-mannered, and they talked and talked until everything was settled. And since they were chatting companionably in her apartment, he tried to take advantage of the moment.

Before she could really understand what was happening, she was on her back, on her couch, being kissed by the journalist who, moments before, had been a perfect gentleman. What was worse was the sluggish feeling she had in all of her limbs, and the sneaking suspicion that the gift he brought to apologize for intruding, peach tea bags, were more than they had seemed.

Worse, even, was that she couldn't say a word.

Her throat had constricted, and she couldn't do more than squeak. It had only been a minute since she had been talking animatedly to him—so why now? Did he know the effect of whatever was in the tea bags so well that he could calculate the exact moment when her voice would cut off and she couldn't call for help?

So she closed her eyes and struggled, though uselessly, fervently wishing the one person she counted on and could always count on would appear.

Her shirt was almost off before and angry roar rent the air and with a loud crash, the journalist was gone. There was a hole in her wall, and in the wall of the apartment across the hall, that would severely damage her emergency savings, but when she saw her favorite dragonslayer, furious, with flames crawling up his arm, she started to weep silent tears of relief, and without even bothering to check on his enemy, Natsu scooped her up and sat back down with her in his lap. It was more comfort than she could have hoped for.

_**Her fifth kiss was…unexpected**_**.**

Lucy had never realized why Natsu was always by her side until he punched the douche trying to get too touchy-feely at Fairy Tail's first Charity Ball, grabbed her by the hand, and pulled her outside to the courtyard. He was furious—she could practically feel his fury rolling off of him in waves of heat.

He was being a bit overprotective, honestly, but when she remembered how uncomfortable she had been just moments before, Lucy chose not to say a word. She let him pull her over to a bench and sat down beside him without questioning his actions. She wasn't sure she could get a good response out of him in the condition he was in, anyway. And so she just sat with him, eventually leaning on his shoulder, while she waited for him to cool off and say whatever it was he'd brought her out here to say.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes had passed, he took a deep breath and apologized.

"Sorry, Lucy. He was just getting on my nerves, touching you like that…and you looked like you wanted him gone, too. I just couldn't help it."

"It's fine," she said, pulling herself into an upright position and smiling softly at him. "As long as this doesn't become a repeat occurrence."

"It wouldn't have to be, if you'd—" Natsu froze, covered his mouth with one hand, and pointedly turned away as his cheeks began to redden. Lucy pursed her lips, not seeing his flush, and looked the other way. Somehow, she'd come to the conclusion, this was all…her fault? What had she been doing to make it where Natsu had to repeat those actions?

"What?" she demanded, unable to think of the solution on her own. "It wouldn't have to be a repeat occurrence if I _what_?"

"Nothing…" he tried weakly.

Lucy frowned and stood from the bench. "No. It's not _nothing_. If you have something you want to say, then you have to say it _clearly_!"

Her breath caught in her throat when his dark eyes found her own. The night around them only made the look more intense, and she didn't know what to do with the swirling emotions she saw building there. And then, in one fluid motion, Natsu was standing and she was in his arms.

_And he was kissing her_.

And for the first time, Lucy just _melted_.

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**AND that's the second one-shot tonight. BAM baby! **

**Not really. I just suddenly got hit and wrote and can you believe I didn't do anything but type this for the last hour? No prior planning, nothing.**


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